Blessed Be You
by yikesgtg
Summary: Things don't go exactly as planned when you're asking the Devil for his blessing to be with his son. BLUES.
**Title -** Blessed Be You

 **Summary -** Things don't go exactly as planned when you're asking the Devil for his blessing to be with his son. BLUES.

 **Endgame Pairing(s) -** blues

 **Rating -** T, no explicit content

 **Status -** oneshot; complete

 **Important Notes -** i meannn, i actually am working on further chapters of Ice Breaker so i thought i'd celebrate my productivity with a oneshot.

 **Disclaimer -** who owns the Powerpuff Girls? still not me.

~0~

A single sharp, articulate thud enunciated itself repeatedly, in a rhythm, as Him tapped his claw on the table. His eyes, emotionless and black, bore down on the blonde before him.

Bubbles made sure to face him while her eyes wandered everywhere _but_ Him. Her back was killing her; she was too scared of moving and breaking the tension, so her back was stuck in a painfully straight posture. She had even made sure to make her pigtails extra neat today. She'd put some nice ribbons in them and everything! And here he was, not appreciating all of her effort and work, staring her down like some piece of crap on the sidewalk.

Excuse my French, she thought to herself.

She might as well break the tension anyway, right? It's not like she's got anything to lose. Well, except the boy she loved. Damn that idiot.

"I, uhm," she started, awkwardly stuttering. She shouldn't be stuttering, or acting awkward - she had known the guy her whole life! "I never thought I'd find myself in this position."

"Nor I," Him responded as quick as lightning, in that high pitched voice of his. He leaned back in his chair, keeping his eyes on her all the while. "But my sons, you see, they have a way of making life a little more... _interesting_."

Bubbles' eyebrows raised, and she looked off to the side, muttering, "No kidding."

Him narrowed his eyes at her. A thick line of tension was between them, stretching out into the vast nowhere of moving images that surrounded the living room. Bubbles saw an image of a young girl planting a seed, her hands and clothes strewn with specks of mud and dirt. Him could remember something faint; the day that he'd revived the boys, Bubbles said something about one of them being "cute", as she put it. He saw that image of her far beyond the others. Who'd have known it would have escalated to a full-on relationship when they came of age?

But Him knew his youngest son. He knew that boy was a just a ball of insecurity and rotten self-esteem. That boy believed the world to be a better place if he were gone, and that boy, despite the attacks on his intelligence, knew better than to actually express these feelings. Bubbles knew none of this. Bubbles did not know him.

Bubbles only knew the front that the boy put up. She only knew that he was as charismatic as he was handsome, and that he could make mouths sneer with his arrogance.

Bubbles cleared her throat, interrupting his scrutiny. "Those cookies sure are taking a while to bake."

Him didn't reply. Another thing he knew was that she was going so far as to fill the silence with irrelevant, nonsensical comments. The absolute _least_ she could've done was stay quiet until those cookies were done, and he could tell that she wanted to. So why did she keep talking?

Him put his claw on the table, knocking down a fork without much subtlety. It clanked to the ground, tumbling over to Bubbles' chair. "Oops," he said, feigning a look of embarrassment.

Bubbles frowned, but bent down to reach for the fork anyway. As soon as she came back up, Him was already at her side in a flash. His claws held either side of her head as she froze in shock. He racked inside her head, searching through her memories. "Come on!" he growled, "Using my son to get to me!? Not one of your smartest ideas, Bubbles!"

It was surprisingly difficult to get a hold on any memory of his son that he could find in her. Every time he found one, it slipped from his grasp, as if she was fighting it. Was there something she didn't want him to see?

"I knew you were hiding something, you conniving little-"

Suddenly, a memory came racing to Him at full speed, almost like it was giving itself up to Him. He caught it, clumsily, and a scene appeared before his eyes.

...

The sky was orange that day. Him could tell it was just a month before Bubbles had come to his door asking for his blessing.

Bubbles was in a car, staring out the window of the passenger seat. Her hair was flapping against the wind and flowing against her face, her bright and shining face. She laughed against the wind and turned around to face the driver, and she put her hand on top of his when he'd stopped at the side of the road. They'd only just reached the bridge leading back into Townsville.

Bubbles jumped out of the car and walked to the other side, concerned. "What happened?"

The driver told her the gas tank was empty.

"Bummer," she said, though attaining a straight face. She shrugged and looked off the edge of the bridge. "At least we get this view."

And she was right. The sun shone against the horizon, making the water a beautiful show of orange and yellow. The sun was so warm that she felt her heart swell.

He walks to her side as she gazes at the scene. He tells her that he had a great time with her that day.

"It's the least I could do," she says. She doesn't trip on her words. "One year anniversaries are a big deal to me, you know."

He laughs. He knows.

She looks at him, and then jokingly adds, "You could've at least gotten me a flower, though."

He laughs again, this time with a more charming essence to it. But she is so caught in the moment that she can't do anything but smile. He didn't need to give her anything. Today was for him. The only gift she needed was this...

Seeing him like this, so happy in spite of the wretching sadness he felt inside, so bright compared to the darkness he was brought up in. The light glimmered on his cheeks as he laughed, his blond hair shining and framing his face so perfectly. She looked at him, feeling every ounce of happiness that she could, knowing that she could give him this happiness-her eyes burned and her heart swelled.

He was the sun.

...

Him fell to his knees, feeling a giant wave of confusion. Bubbles came to, gasping for air and panting. Him looked at her, furious.

"What was that?" he demanded. That memory didn't seem like anything he expected.

Bubbles gasped, "That was..." She took a few more moments to catch her breath.

Him slammed his claw on the table, enraged. "What the _hell_ was that!?"

Bubbles glared at him, standing up from her seat. "That," she said firmly, "was the moment I fell in love with him."

Him was at a loss for words. He couldn't begin to think of what to say. No, that couldn't be true-there had to be some ulterior motive. She couldn't just...

The confusion faded away. Him looked Bubbles square in the eye. Many thoughts ran amuck in his head, rampant and raging. He kept them all to himself when he grabbed her head once more, this time erasing the memory of ever having come to Him's home that evening.

...

"What do you mean she never came?"

"Exactly that," Him responded, sipping a small cup of tea. He placed it carefully on a coaster, and regarded his youngest son with a shrug.

"No, but she told me specifically that she'd see you today. I remember her telling me-"

"Well, maybe your memories are false," Him snapped. "Ever thought of that?"

The boy looked at him with contempt. "Maybe it's better that she didn't see you. I'd still be with her even without your blessing."

"That I know, child."

The boy scoffed and made his way out the room.

Him watched him go with a shadowed look of worry. That boy was headed for danger and self-destruction. Him or either of his other sons could not be able to steer the boy away from that path. No one could.

But there was one person he'd listen to.

Him watched the passing images, and noticed one in particular where his youngest is meeting up with Bubbles. She greeted him with a smile too genuine to be real.

Him took his last sip of tea, set it back on the coaster, and took the damp tea bag out of the cup. As he twirled the tea bag around his claw, he said solemnly, "Those young, stupid souls."

~fin~


End file.
